This traverse is one of the most iconic and dangerous obstacles in high altitude mountaineering. You fall here and you will die. The serac destabilizes in any way whatsoever and you’re in a lot of trouble. I’ve studied this section, watched amateur videos, analyzed photos and mentally walked myself through it hundreds of times, knowing that one day my time would come to document it and negotiate the blue ice extremely carefully, camera in hand.

We left just after midnight and were gifted with a bright moon that lit up all the mountains below. Headlamps were unnecessary. The images on video that night are extraordinary leading up to this point.

I don’t have the luxury of only climbing, I have to think video, shots, coverage, storytelling and content. On the ascent, my filmmaking mind I knew I wanted Sajid crossing the traverse under the serac with the sunrise beneath him. By the time I traversed, it was 4am and Earth’s first light in Pakistan became the backlight of Sajid’s interview standing at the edge having just crossed the most dangerous section on K2.

It was hard to believe what I was filming. Where I was standing was absurd, but I was locked into the anchor and safety line and Sajid was comfortable standing on the foot and a half wide path with the abyss below, sharing his feelings about coming face to face with his father.

I didn’t have time to feel any pain or discomfort up there. I was occupied with wireless mics, focus, batteries and the most important task of adapting to Sajids every move, trying to anticipate what he might do and always ready to flip and drop any expectation or plan to accommodate his actions.

As a climber, athlete, human being and storyteller, I felt like the sum total of all of my experiences, in life, in loss, grief, creativity and performance all came together to ensure we had both the logistics safely in place and the recorded media we needed to tell this story.

With the right mindset, adversity and hardship become the greatest of enablers.

It was an incredibly dangerous search just beneath 8300m. John Snorri was the highest of the three climbers, attached to the winter K2 safety lines installed by the Nepalese Sherpas. John, Ali and JP were all on the descent. Ali Sadpara was a few rope lengths below and Juan Pablo a significant distance away near camp 4.

PK sat above me at the anchor monitoring the situation from a safety standpoint. I rely on him as my eyes are generally glued to my electronic viewfinder. I hung off my ascender entrusting my life into the fresh line from summer with my crampons firmly biting into the ice. I filmed the scene as Sajid searched John Snorri for 4 items: a Garmin, a satellite phone, a Samsung mobile and a 360 GoPro.

The slope was between 75 and 80 degrees. One wrong move and that would be it. Sajid spent over 15 minutes reaching in to John’s jacket, pockets and boots hoping to find the crucial items. At one point, he pulled his knife out and began cutting John’s clothing. You can’t imagine how difficult it is to move/search a person once they’ve passed on an 8000m peak. I documented feathers flying as he triumphantly pulled out the most important item: the GoPro. What would it reveal?

This is the only piece of visual information that we have at the moment. A single frame of video which is corrupt that will need further analysis. The date is incorrect, logged as February 7th, 2019.

What do you see? The color of the rope is quite an important detail. The heroic Nepali Sherpas who summited K2 in winter would recognize this rope as they installed it. But where is this? How close to the summit? Can the GoPro 360 reveal the Geo position of the climbers? What else can be learned from this image? Strangely it does not play on any of the devices we have including the GoPro 360 app.

Our work continues here. We jump to no conclusions as we continue to put the pieces together and search for evidence of a successful winter ascent.

It took losing my own father to a brutal car crash on July 25th, 2018 and traveling extraordinary lengths to find answers leading up to his death, crossing the blurred unwritten lines between (in)sanity and love to understand (and support) just how far a young man would go to bury his father, remove him from the pathway where all could see and honor his name and memory according to Islamic tradition.

I am still processing what happened high up on K2. Sajid was unstoppable, fueled by a determination only a son can have for his fallen and missing father.

We were in the death zone for two days, on the mountain for five, let down by both of our high altitude porters and forced to carry their responsibility on our backs. To say it was intense would be a disservice to the experience and the sheer power of the King of all mountains. K2 was kind to us, very kind. And we are humbled and grateful.

This was Sajid’s journey and PK and I were passengers on his sacred mission. Adapting to his every emotion and move, reaction and action was the strategy. The strength, bravery, courage and commitment to his father was one of the powerful forces I’ve ever witnessed. He is his fathers son.

Sajid covered up Juan Pablo with snow and brought some of his belongings home for his family. He then buried his father Ali Sadpara and performed a burial ritual outside of camp 4. He also searched our dear friend John Snorri’s lifeless body for clues and evidence of a winter ascent. I hung by my ascender on a 75 degree slope of blue ice and recorded that moment, and all others, as our parallel mission was to honor our missing friends by finishing what we started in winter. We retraced their footsteps, found answers, many which are devastatingly heartbreaking, and we continue to gain insight into exactly what happened.

Lead with your heart, not your ego. One can never go wrong.

The soul of the son of Pakistan’s Snow Leopard can finally rest. As can mine. Finally.

The mystery continues to unravel.

I filmed as PK led and was belayed by Sajid. My concern was not getting to camp 4, my concern was getting us out of there down to camp 3 as the sun was beginning to lay low and I knew it was a long way down to safety at basecamp. We still had to get warm, make dinner, try to recover from two days with little sleep and battle with weather the following morning.

By the time Pasang topped out I saw the familiar hand gesture signaling: let’s get the hell out of here. I know how frustrating it was for Sajid, but it was the only call to make. We’d knew we’d be back.

It can be tempting to test your fate, just a little bit further, climb a little bit higher, but I’m a firm believer in playing the long game, listening to the mountain, remaining sensible in the face of the thin line and sticking with the plan, even if it means throwing away expectation. There’s no ‘what you want’ up here, there’s only what the mountain commands. As they say: the mountain doesn’t care. So we need to care, about one another and about respecting the voice of K2 - we simply adapt.

Patiently waiting to hear what the mountain has to say next.

A few days ago my precious little dog named Buddy died. He was nearly 17 but nonetheless, receiving the news felt like a knife through the heart. Meanwhile, this is where I was, working my way up K2, honoring my word, fulfilling the ‘mission’. At what cost?

I wasn’t there. I was there on an iPad. While beautiful and thoughtful, I still wasn’t there. Buddy was there, every time I needed him.

I’m a person who does not dwell on the things he cannot control, perhaps that is the philosophical non-attached program/belief I adopted from Buddhist teachings years ago, my relationship with death is quite healthy, but I am human. My pain and grief reflects the depth of the bond.

After 16 years of doing this, being someone who travels so much and makes tremendous sacrifices to do what I do, I pause and ask myself: is it all worth it? In the beginning it is. You’re figuring it out, you’re living the dream, you’re climbing the ladder, you’re building your name, bla bla bla. Then you wake up one day and recognize just how much of ‘real life’ you’re missing out on. You look back and see how much you’ve lost, how the most precious commodity of time evaporates and while all you’re living is heavenly and beautiful, it’s also marred with loss and complication. Loved ones come and go and you find yourself barely able to commit to a plant without needing your sister to save the day. And then your Furry companion dies and you’re not there. It hurts. One must ask the hard questions.

When I broke my back in ‘14 and was confined to a body brace Buddy healed me. Anyone who is attached to an animal knows what it’s like, the loyalty, the love, the unconditional bond and way of making you feel cared for like no other. And yet, this photo is where I was. It’s a tough one to swallow.

His life was beautiful and ours are richer for being a part of his little journey.

There is a lot to consider to make this expedition run safely. We are here to support Sajid, enable his search, honor the fallen and document the efforts which will eventually combine our winter efforts with what’s unfolding right now to make a comprehensive film that delves deep into the events that transpired last winter, but that also reaches into other complex territory. To make all of that work requires meticulous planning, redundancy plans and an attention to detail where one oversight can cost you everything.

PK and I take a divide and conquer approach: in Pakistan, he’s got the technical leadership and logistics and I’ve got all things story, tech, creative and documentation. We each have a hand in each other’s territory, but when it comes to making this work on the hill, ensuring we move everything we need up this mountain, he’s the man in charge. Everything from coordinating the loads being carried up high, working with Sajid, Fazal and Aziz, keeping an eye on every safety detail, securing gear with ice screws at high camps, food, water, weather: he’s got a handle on it all. To consider how far he’s come from his village of Sotang 6 to IFMGA guide orchestrating this all behind the scenes is nothing short of deeply impressive.

We’re in a perfect position at the moment awaiting the next window because of the collective efforts and because of my friend PK Sherpa.

We weren’t supposed to be the ones organizing and orchestrating this, but when no one stepped up to do anything, we took action at the 11th hour. And so here we are, waiting out the storm, with all the tools and tech we need to do our work up high.

This is an area high on K2, just below camp 4 at approximately 7800m. The summit can be seen in the far distance and the Bottleneck, the massive overhanging serac that you must climb under is visible to the right. This image does not do the serac justice at all, it’s actually the most ominous and incredibly dangerous obstacle I’ve ever had to deal with in all of my travels. If even a portion of it dislodges while you’re there, as a piece of it did in 2008, everyone is in serious trouble.

In this image, Sajid Sadpara makes his way towards what becomes the end of the line for us on this particular day. PK led the pitch and fixed some rope only to determine we needed to turn back.

At basecamp, uploading a single photo like this one is a tedious process. The last image I posted took me 4 hours to upload. After my days of climbing and filming, I spend most of my time playing digital media technician. I back up all the cards which on the last rotation comprised of 5 main camera cards, 2 mirrorless still cards, 4 GoPros, 2 drones and 3 TrackE wireless mics I have the team wear. In parallel, usually by the time dinner rolls around, I’m still processing photos in Lightroom (typing and eating at the moment) often looking for one image that represents the story I’m trying to tell. All of this at altitude, in the cold, while trying to recover from the steep high altitude climbing.

It’s a love and commitment to the process of doing the work we do and knowing we can share with all of you and bring you on the journey with us.

It was an epic three day rapid acclimatization / search / filming trip up to beneath camp four.

We pushed from basecamp to camp 2, overnighted and then blasted up to camp 3. We had the upper mountain to ourselves. The following morning, as expected and forecasted, the conditions were impeccable.

The powerful team of Sherpas from Nepal, our friends from Madison Mountaineering / Himalayan Guides, opened up and fixed the route to the base of camp 4 and blasted out a trail. Without their efforts, our work would have been impossible.

We flew our drones beneath the bottleneck in impeccable conditions as high as 8300m looking for clues of what may have happened to our friends while doing recon for the teams coordinating the future effort above.

By day 4, the weather shifted and we woke up to an avalanche at camp 3. Pelican case sized snow boulders were catapulting down the hill towards us. We knew it was time to retreat as the calculated weather risk was unfolding in real-time. We packed up the tent, secured the oxygen and made the quick descent from camp 3 to basecamp in whiteout conditions.

I’m personally battered at the moment, but grateful for young Sajid who insisted we use the window at hand regardless of the lack of recovery time.

We had hoped to make it a bit higher than we did at 7800m, but a technical impasse blocked us. We climbed as high as we could and did everything possible search / film related. No traces thus far.

To my boss friend Pasang Kaji Sherpa, I’m deeply grateful your technical leadership up high. And special thank you to Fazal Ali and Aziz Baig for supporting us behind the scenes.

As fate would have it, holding our position, listening to the voice of the mountain, humbly bowing down and accepting defeat, recognizing that our film efforts would not be fully realized, likely saved our lives. We held our position at Japanese Camp 3 and rather than joining our friends on their summit bid, we huddled together in a tent in -45c for the night and descended to safety.

Having turned back on mountains a number of times before, despite the let down, I must admit that I was tremendously relieved. This was winter K2 after all. As those who summited put it: it is simply unimaginable up there above 8000m. I knew in that moment that PK, Fazal Ali and I would be returning home. When all goes wrong goes right - nothing is more humbling.

Climbing to Japanese Camp 3 and discovering these bottles transported us back to that fateful night on February 4th. We were treading the edge of our abilities and when we hit the wall and all signs pointed to throwing in the towel we immediately accepted the reality of the situation. It was over.

And now we found it and it will once again, hopefully, if all aligns, be the enabler of our little 5 person operation high above the clouds.

A gift of circumstance and serendipity from the stars.

The Gilkey Memorial is a memorial for those who have died while climbing K2. The memorial is named after Art Gilkey who died on the mountain in 1953.

John’s spirit can be felt everywhere. He lives on in each of the people he deeply and positively impacted here in Pakistan. Today, our hearts are with Lina, John’s family, his friends and children and the people of Iceland who treasured this one of a kind beautiful soul.

The first time @sherpapk and I approached the base of the mountain in winter, K2’s slopes were sheer ice. We were unacclimatized and weighed down with all of our survival and camera gear and carrying two bottles of oxygen each. The mountain felt 5x harder than it should have because of our late arrival and lack of acclimatization. This time, we were traveling light, were well acclimated and to our surprise had perfectly carved steps in soft snow leading up to the first stretch of fixed rope. Perfect.

We managed to film every stretch of rope, taking our time along the way enjoying every moment of the climb.

The absence of the unknown gives you a tremendous advantage in mountaineering and the unknown for us in this case is the familiarity of the route. To have felt physically great and confident just a few months after our winter climb was an incredible feeling. Last time, I could barely record a single shot because of the race against time. This time I was able to shoot the entire route and even managed to fly my drone at camp 1.

To watch Sajid find his footing and flow after 4 months of city living was a real treat to witness. Within a day he was back to his usual self, the son of the Snow Leopard, flying upwards effortlessly towards our first destination.

As you can imagine, it’s been an emotional journey so far, retracing our own footsteps and those of our friends from last winter. There have been some pivotal moments where realizations have been made upon revisiting key locations, resulting in deeper questions being asked about the outcome and circumstances surrounding last winter on K2 and the culminating events with all who attempted the summit and journeyed as high as camp 3.

Our approach has been to live the experience day by day. There are high hopes and ideal scenarios, yet no attachment to any particular outcome as we are all aware that K2 will always have the final say and will dictate what we are able to accomplish. So far, the mountain has been incredibly kind. We had 4 impeccable days above the clouds, climbed higher than we planned, discovered more than we anticipated, filmed more than I personally could have hoped for and descended without issue. The latter for me, is always the number one priority: a round trip for all.

We’ve been incredibly busy since descending. We have been problem solving with necessary technology that arrived to basecamp yesterday, all with unreliable sluggish internet. After 15 hrs of effort, with the help of some angels from afar, we managed to get everything working. We are all doing well, we’re in great spirits and ready to ascend once we are recovered and a window reveals itself.

For me, it’s impossible to ignore the call of the soul and the call of the mountain.
I am typing this Instagram post up at camp 2, huddled into a tent with Pasang Kaji next to me while Sajid Sadpara rests his eyes in the tent next door. We are retracing John and Ali’s footsteps up the mountain and as you can imagine the emotions are running high, particularly for Sajid who is determined to find his father and our missing friends.

For a certain kind of person, a winter ascent of K2 and the high risk nature of the endeavor is intoxicating.
It is the ultimate high. It’s very easy, if you’re not careful, to allow the ego to creep in and completely take over, dominate your judgement and lose total sense of self and self awareness of the inherent risks and potential collateral damage that can take place.

This season feels void of ego. Atleast with the company we are keeping.

K2 has been INCREDIBLY generous thus far and we are both humbled and deeply grateful as we progress higher on our mission.

Sajid Sadpara is living the most intense emotions up here and PK and I are doing our best to support him. He has his fathers strength and unparalleled spirit.

Upwards we climb my friends. More photos and updates now that the internet is working again.

Much love from all of us.

Today, we retraced our own footsteps to gain some altitude and to further the story we are telling. We hiked up to 5300m and ended up filming a spontaneous moment where Sajid played a video of a song called ‘Pharong Ki Qasam’, a tribute to Ali Sadpara, written and performed by Ali Zafar.
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As the snow fell from the sky, Sajid’s eyes did all the talking as he listed and sang the words of the famous Pakistani song.

It’s a privilege to be here, living this journey with Sajid, Pasang, Fazal, Aziz, Mosin and the rest of the staff. We couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful day, snowflakes and all, at the base of the second highest mountain on Earth.

Spirits are high here at K2 basecamp and it feels as though Ali and John’s spirits are with us in our camp, just as we left it last February.

Eternally grateful. The journey continues.

Something happens to me on these expeditions. It’s as though I’m able to become the best version of myself. The adversity can either crush you or aid you in becoming who you really are. For me, because I’m an artist first, it’s as though I’m in constant state of flow, in a heightened state of awareness, where my work which is my passion, my athleticism and my humanism all collide to create the most profound experience.

Truth is: this mountain scares the shit out of me. As it should. It’s K2, not Everest. There’s no margin for error whatsoever. I lost two good friends up there in winter and lost another friend, Serge Dessureault a few years back, who I was also supposed to be filming. Veterans die on this mountain. We are approaching K2 with the deepest level of respect, as we do all mountains. K2, with additional caution and tremendous humility.

Getting Sajid here so he has a chance to find his father is everything. As important as finding John and Juan Pablo. But I also have a lot to say about last winter that I will unpack in our film. I kept my mouth shut about some of the events that transpired last winter in fear of my words being stripped down to sound bytes. We will methodically unpack it all and get to the heart of the truth of the many questions that are unanswered. I’ve got to shoot all of this as well, which is a load to carry alone, but this is what I do.

It’s on.

As with Winter K2, this expedition was not easy to pull together. In the weeks leading up to our arrival in Pakistan, we communicated daily, problem solved almost hourly, put out fires, navigated the complex travel terrain during the pandemic and ultimately succeeded in arriving on time. PK moved mountains in Nepal for us, sourcing all the gear for the high altitude portion of the climb.

Few know this, but after our recent Everest summit, (swipe for images) on descent, our team intersected with another team that was recovering a deceased climber who passed in 2019. Despite their very good intentions, they were not technically proficient enough to manage the recovery safely. Pasang Kaji intervened and led the recovery with everyone’s safety in mind. By the time we reached camp 3, there was a full white out, it was snowing and we had depleted our oxygen reserves. It was a team effort with outstanding leadership.

PK will be leading the technical efforts up high on K2. He’s the IFMGA/UIAGM/NNMGA guide. I typically work hand in hand with him on the production side, but this time, once we step foot on K2, his role changes and he gets to put all of his skills to practice, particularly once we reach camp 3, 4 and above.

It’s an honor to have him with us.

Thank you, Pasang Kaji Sherpa. This would not be possible without you.

Pakistan has been on my radar for years. As a storyteller, what was most important to me was visiting this beautiful country with an intent to tell local stories and if possible, to tell the story of the unsung heroes in relation to K2. When I first heard about Ali Sadpara, his son Sajid and John Snorri, I knew that I had found the story I was looking for. It was an historic season and there were 3 heroes the world needed to know about. What I didn’t know is that the pursuit of the story would lead me down this path. It would have been easy to stop and accept the outcome and move on, but that just wasn’t something I could live with. And it wouldn’t be me. And honoring your souls journey is everything as is honoring the fallen.

And so here we are, in beautiful Pakistan, connecting with the local people, amidst some of the highest mountains on Earth on our way to fulfill a mission that chose us.

2 days away from K2 basecamp.

It’s hard to believe that we’re back in Pakistan. And it’s even harder to believe that not only are we here, we managed to put the team back together as it was last winter. Fazal, Mosin, myself, Pasang Kaji, the cooking staff - we’re back together. It was important to me that those that experienced all of this first-hand on the ground in winter be there to support Sajid and his quest to find his father.

The last time I saw Sajid, he flew out of basecamp after the disappearance of his father Ali Sadpara, John Snorri and Juan Pablo Mohr. We interviewed him just outside of Skardu before he was whisked away for formalities.
It was an emotional interview fresh off of K2 and I had no idea when I would see him again.

What this young man has been through in the past 4 months is unimaginable and yet his strength and determination shines through in every action he takes.

The moment I landed in Pakistan, the camera started rolling and I was right back in the thick of the emotion. Sajid handled the press conference like a seasoned veteran. He then took me to visit his mother, followed by a very special tour of the village of Sadpara where he showed me (and where we filmed) where his father was born. It’s been non stop ever since, departing Skardu to begin the five day trek to K2 basecamp.

The weight of what’s ahead can be felt by all, but there seems to be a collective unspoken awareness that that time will come - and that for now - we’re all carrying one another with smiles and levity.

We just got online so expect regular updates and plenty of images to help you experience this journey with us.

We can feel the love and support through all of the messages and comments. Thank you from all of us.

Onwards and upwards.

I’m in Pakistan and headed to K2 with Sajid Sadpara to search for his father, Ali Sadpara and our dear friend John Snorri.

The truth is: I just couldn’t do nothing. These are our friends. These were our teammates. We were making a film about their winter ascent. We were supposed to be with them the night they disappeared with JP Moer and we are likely alive because fate intervened as an oxygen mix-up forced PK and I back just below camp 3. Ali, JP Mohr and John never returned. Sajid survived.

While climbing Everest this spring, I obsessively sought out support to finish our film and honor our friends, yet in the end, we failed to gain financial support, as did Sajid. Unwilling to quit, in the last two weeks, our tiny unit pulled off a miracle and today, a very grown-up Sajid launched the project in the Pakistani press.

Pasang Kaji Sherpa will be with us as will Fazal Ali, Mosin, Aziz and the cooking staff from the winter ascent. Asghar from Jasmine Tours Pakistan helped us pull it all together at the 11th hour. PK Sherpa moved mountains in Nepal to ensure we have all that we need.

I’ve flipped my entire world and my finances upside-down, but I don’t care. I’ll clean the mess up when I get home. It’s incredible what a few people can pull together with will and determination.

For all those who asked over the past months, there’s just no way we wouldn’t be here.

This is our quest to find answers. This is about honor, loyalty and friendship. This is for Sajid. This is for Ali. This is for John. And this is for Pakistan.

K2 - The Calling.